


Zepp

by multifandommess17



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x12, Cas bein an adorable dork, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, Led Zeppelin References, M/M, Mixtape, Song Lyrics, overthinker Dean, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandommess17/pseuds/multifandommess17
Summary: Dean’s thoughts during 12x12 and the creation and giving of the mixtape.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Zepp

Dean still can’t say it. 

He’s thought it, sure, in the heat of battle and in the most calm moments. It’s surprising that he can even think those words at this point. Most of the time, thought, it’s a wordless feeling, like a pulse beating alongside his heart, over and over and over. Dean knows he should tell Cas but- he just can’t say those three little words. 

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t said it since he was four and normal and happy, not even to Sam. Maybe it’s just hardwired into his brain to never, ever say it again. Maybe it’s because he’s not sure the phrase “I love you” will ever encompass the mess of emotions he has about- for- Cas. 

Maybe it boiled down to fear that Cas wouldn’t say it back. 

And now he doesn’t even have that excuse. 

He’d really thought Cas was going to die, again, and before his brain went to its usual compartmentalization method and focused solely on any possibility of saving him, he’d wondered for a second if he should say something, anything. Sometimes, when he looked at Cas, words that mean so much yet not enough to would build up inside him like water held back by a dam, and if it cracked a flood of “your smile is brighter than sunshine and your eyes bluer than the sky you are beautiful you are incredible you light up my life like a skyscraper at night and you make me feel like I’m falling apart and perfectly whole at the same time and I love it when you’re here and I love it when you look at me and when you say my name like it’s the only one that matters and that you still look at me like the only place you want to be is by my side despite everything both of us have done I need you Cas I love you I love you I love you I love you-‘ would come gushing out and sweep them both away. Several times, a nail of the dam had popped out, but something always held him back from letting the first board fall. Dean wasn’t sure if he could keep the dam up forever, or if he’d even have the choice- if Cas died now, and a miracle never happened, all he could do was hold that dam together and try as hard as he could to pretend it never existed. Maybe the time is now. 

But Sam and his mom are there, and the yellow-eyed demon is still in play, and Dean can’t get Cas alone and he won’t let the dam break in front of anyone except Cas. And he still just can’t say those three words. 

But Cas can. 

And Cas does. And Dean doesn’t even know how to respond. Does he say it back? If not, what does he say? 

He almost forgets Sam and Mary are still there, until Cas says “I love all of you” and looks Sam in the eye before looking back at Dean. 

Almost if the “all of you” was aimed at Sam, and the first was aimed at Dean. 

He and Cas have always, on some level, been able to communicate without words what probably can’t even be expressed in them. And that happens now. Something Dean can’t quite describe passes between them, and if there ever was a time to say it, it’s now, but then Cas is talking and Sam is talking and it’s gone. 

“Like you said, we’re family” Dean says, and it still means what it does every time he’s said it to Cas, and now he wonders if it’s quite enough.  
***  
Cas doesn’t die, as it turns out, and Dean is left with indescribable relief. 

And a little bit of awkwardness, due to his own overthinking. 

Mary offers to drive, and Dean cedes the keys to her without complaint. He watches Sam’s eyebrows draw in a little at this, and when he turns down shotgun to sit in the back with Cas, but he doesn’t comment. Dean hopes it’ll stay that way. 

They don’t talk much. There aren’t words. Cas stares out the window or at the back of Mary’s head, and Dean watches the streetlights flicker across his face. He’s thinking the words, sure, but no, he still can’t say them. He wonders if he can project his brainwaves loud enough that Cas can feel it. He wonders if he already has. 

The radio’s playing softly, and Mary recognizes a song that’s playing. She nudges the volume up. It’s a Led Zeppelin song, and Sam glances at her, but she’s lost in thought, her smile a ghost on her face. 

Dean remembers his own words, when he first saw her in her nightgown in the clearing. He’d remembered what John’d told him about their first date, and he repeated it back to her: “He asked for your number, and you knew your father wouldn’t be happy. But he was cute, and he knew every word to every Zeppelin song ever, so you gave it to him. . .” 

Sam’s foot just barely kicks the box of cassettes under the seat, and inspiration hits. 

Dean’s distractedness hasn’t gone unnoticed by Cas. He gently puts his hand on Dean’s arm, and when Dean looks back at him, goes to take it back, but Dean’s hand snakes out of its own accord and puts itself overtop Cas’, holding him there. 

Neither of them move again until the bunker is in view. 

Dean finally knows how to say it back.  
***  
Once everyone’s settled into the bunker, Dean pulls out a blank tape, a tape recorder, and his phone. He’s using old tech, but who says you can’t mix old and new? 

He’d thought about the perfect mix on the ride, when he wasn’t thinking about Cas’ hand on his arm and his hand on Cas’ or when blue eyes weren’t staring into his soul. He stresses over the order, song choice, if Cas’ will even like Zeppelin (Chuck forbid he doesn’t) and he feels like a middle schooler with a crush, but he also feels right. He makes the playlist on his phone, checks it one last time, then hits “record” and lets the familiar lyrics wash over him.  
***  
“You swore that you’d never leave me, baby/ whatever happened to you?/ An’ you thought it was only in movies/ as you wish all your dreams would come true, hey/ it ain’t the first time believe me, baby/ that I’ve been standing here feeling blue, blue, ha” 

He’d left the door cracked open so hopefully people wouldn’t knock and disturb the recording, and he’s rewarded by a rush of cool air that announces Sam. 

Dean puts his fingers to his lips. Sam makes his “what-the-hell-are-you-doing” face and Dean mouths “Tape. For Cas-‘s car.” 

Sam raises his eyebrows. Dean glares. Sam smirks and steps back out. 

“I got no reason to doubt you, baby/ it’s all a terrible mess/ An’ I’ll run in the rain till I’m breathless/ when I’m breathless I’ll run till I drop, hey”  
***  
“Mine’s a tale that can’t be told/ my freedom I hold dear/ how years ago in days of old/ when magic filled the air” 

Dean has his eyes closed, so he doesn’t see Mary peek in the doorway. She takes in the tape recorder, the song (and it’s artist), Dean’s face. 

“‘‘Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor/ I met a girl so fair/ but Gollum, the evil one/ crept up and slipped away with her. . .”  
She slips back into the hallway before Dean can see, so no one sees her smile. 

“Ain’t nothing I could do, so/ I guess I keep rambling”  
***  
“If the sun refused to shine/ I would still be loving you/ mountains crumble to the sea/ there will still be you and me” 

Cas enters as the tape is finishing up. Dean holds his fingers to his lips once more. Cas is confused but waits patiently (if not slightly awkwardly) for the song to be over. 

Dean clicks the stop button. 

“Hey, Cas.” 

“Am I allowed to speak now?” Cas stage whispers, and suddenly Dean’s heart is so full he’s worried it’ll burst right out of his chest. 

He manages to keep it together, and smiles at Cas. 

“Yeah. I stopped recording. What’s up? Can’t sleep?” 

“Dean. Angels don’t sleep.” 

“I know, Cas. It was a joke.” 

“Oh. Yes. I came in because I thought you were asleep, but your door was open. . . what were you doing?”

Dean’s thought long and hard (heh) about how to present this. Of course, he’s still clueless. 

“I was. . . making something. It’s pretty much done, but- hey, close your eyes for a minute.” 

Cas’ squint actually intensifies, which Dean didn’t think was possible, but he can tell when he does fully close his eyes. 

He pulls out the tape and a good pen. 

He’s also put too, too much thought into how to sign it. Capital D, lowercase (weird to him- he usually writes in all caps like his father did, and Cas once complimented. But he’s not his father, and maybe this little, subtle difference- that he sincerely doubted Cas would notice but he’s put too much thought into anyway- will show it.) e, a, uppercase N, lowercase s- no apostrophe, ‘cause he’s a rebel- letters all around the same size. “top” (not capitalized), 13, as a number and not a word, “Zepp”, ‘cause Cas needs to learn slang and shorthand, capital T, capital A, capital C- and then the hardest part. Does he spell TRACKS normally or with two XX’s? X’s look cooler, but “X X” means kisses, right? It’s not like Cas would know that, or that it could be easily interpreted as that, but still. . . Does he want to send kisses to Cas? 

That thought distracts him enough that it’s only when Cas asks “Can I open my eyes now?”, all sarcastically, that Dean tells himself he’s putting too much thought into it, spell it normally -or- 

And TRAXX is spelled with two neat X’s and Dean is saying “Yes, Cas, you can open your eyes.”

Cas does so. Dean walks over, grabs his hand and puts the completed mixtape into it. 

“It’s actually, uh, for you.” 

“Me?” Cas looks almost shocked, and Dean suddenly wonders if Cas has ever been given a gift before. It’s not like Heaven is big on birthday bashes. “Why?” 

Of all the questions, Dean had been dreading that one. What’s he supposed to say? ‘Well, Cas, you told me you loved me in front of my family while we all thought you’d be dead in a couple hours, again, earlier today, and I’m too emotionally constipated to say it back, so instead I made you a mixtape, even though it’s 2017 and no one listens to them anymore except me, of my favorite band that my father seduced my mother with, and I’m hoping you can read my mind and take it as my declaration of undying love!’ 

He can’t say that. That’s the whole point of making the tape. But he does have a decent excuse, which is: 

“I thought that- since you have your own car and all- and if- when- whenever- you leave- or go for a drive or something- um, you can have music. There’s still stuff I haven’t taught you about Earth, y’know? And no one uses tapes anymore, but I do, so I made this. It’s called a mixtape, ‘cause I picked out the songs, get it? It’s my thirteen favorite Led Zeppelin songs- see, I wrote the label. They’re my favorite band. And you should listen on tape to fully appreciate their glory.”

Cas has been listening attentively. Now he looks back to the tape. 

“You. . . made this? For me?” 

“Yeah.” Dean scratches the back of his neck, clears his throat. “It’s a gift.”

Cas looks back at Dean, then. “Thank you.” It’s impossible to miss the sincerity in his tone. 

“No problem, Cas.” 

Cas is staring at the tape again, with wonder and gratitude and that special look Cas reserves for looking at him, the one that makes Dean feel a little like he’s falling or flying; he’s not sure which. 

“I hate to ask, but. . .” 

“How does it work?” Dean says, smirking. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m pretty sure your truck has a cassette player, I’ll show you how to work it tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” Cas stops tapping the plastic surface like that’ll make it work. Dean chokes back his laughter. 

It takes a little while for the silence to get uncomfortable. 

“Well, Cas, it has been a long day, to say the least, so if you’ll excuse me,  
I need my four hours.” 

“Of course. Dean-“ Cas stops himself. 

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I still don’t sleep.” 

“I know.” 

“Can I- watch over you?” 

Dean almost says no. But something stops him. It could be the fact that Cas asked, or that he’d almost died that day, or maybe that he’d actually like having Cas be so close, Dean isn’t sure. 

Whatever the reason, he finds himself saying “Don’t tell Sam, okay?” and returning Cas’ half-smile. “Just give me a minute to change, alright?” 

He remembers the old tape player under the bed as he’s pulling on his shirt.  
***  
By the time Mary, always an insomniac, ducks her head into Dean’s room again, Dean is asleep. Cas is listening to the tape, after Dean reassured him that it wouldn’t disturb his rest. 

“Did you ever really need somebody/ and really need ‘em bad/ did you ever really want somebody,” 

Cas nods to Mary, tentatively holding his finger to his lips like Dean did earlier. Mary smiles and nods back. She walks away, not before catching a glimpse of Cas’ face as he watches Dean breathe evenly. 

‘I was right’, she thinks ‘an angel was watching over my Dean.’

“Do you ever really want somebody/ the best love you ever had,”

‘But I never predicted that Dean would end up watching out for an angel. . . ‘

“Oh darlin’, oh darlin’/ I’m never gonna leave. I never gonna leave. . .”

**Author's Note:**

> The song lyrics are from Led Zeppelin songs, obviously. In quoted order, they are: “Fool in the Rain,” “Ramble On,” “Thank You,” and “Ten Years Gone”. Thanks to “IWATCHTHEBEES” on Spotify for the playlist!


End file.
